


Growing Up

by Onceyourempire



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Gen, I don't even ship it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onceyourempire/pseuds/Onceyourempire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, they don't like each other.</p>
<p>By the end, it's all okay, and every single one of them has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Up

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even ship Nick/Ellis.
> 
> But I got frustrated with the bigger part of the fandom just....doing the characters wrong. Kawaii Ellis and Tsundere Nick. GOD.
> 
> I wanted to see if I could do Nick/Ellis while keeping the characters intact, even as a non-Nellis fan and as someone who hates Nick. Idk how I did. I'm kind of ashamed. Ollies outie into the sun.

They don’t like each other at first.

To be fair, Nick doesn’t like any of them at first. Not Coach, as Nick doesn’t like being told what to do and that’s what Coach excels at. Not Rochelle, because she’s too much like him and not enough like him - she manages to be cynical and caring at the same time and it bugs him. Not Ellis, though he doesn’t hate Ellis more than the other two. Ellis, in Nick’s mind, is just plain stupid, or perhaps mentally unstable. Kill all sons of bitches? That’s slightly disturbed. Not like Nick can talk, but he never enjoyed-

Anyway.

Ellis likes Coach and Rochelle right away. Coach is like Ellis in many ways, and he’s a good, strong man who looks out for his people while keeping his sense of humor. Rochelle and him run on the same wavelength when it comes to zombies- do what you have to when you have to, and stay calm. She listens to him and although their backgrounds couldn’t be more different they have a kind of kindred spiritship.

Ellis doesn’t like Nick simply because Nick is everything Ellis doesn’t like. He’s shady, distrustful, sharp, and self-serving. Really, he’s the anti-Ellis and he rubs Ellis the wrong way whenever he opens his mouth.

But Ellis tries, because he knows that Nick won’t split. Nick thinks he will, thinks he can survive on his own, but Ellis knows the value of having people around you who need you and support you. Since Nick won’t split, Ellis knows that they have to “play nice” or none of them will survive.

```

After they all leap into the stock car of ex-racer Jimmy Gibbs Junior and speed off into the sunset, Nick realizes he isn’t going anywhere.

The realization comes as he wakes up in the back seat next to Rochelle and behind Ellis and feels completely safe.

He doesn’t feel like he needs to ditch these losers, not like he did when they first ran into each other.

Instead, he feels like they’re his only chance.

He stares at the back of Ellis’ head and wonders if maybe that’s why Ellis has been so nice to all of them. It isn’t because he’s stupid or unaware of their situation. It’s because he knows. He’s probably known all along.

Rochelle is asleep on his shoulder and Coach is staring out the window in a trance. Nick feels like, if he wanted to, he could lean forward and tell Ellis that he was right. Just say that, and sit back and say nothing else for the rest of the trip. Just let Ellis know that he isn’t a total waste of space.

Nick doesn’t move an inch, because knowing that Ellis (a hick, a softie, an easy mark) figured out something long before he did makes him frustrated. He can’t help but feel angry at Ellis in a strange, doubled around to self-blaming way. So he stays silent.

The next time Nick tells Ellis he hates him, he knows that Ellis knows that Nick finally understands. Instead of saying nothing, like Ellis did before, he smiles and says “Well, I still like you, Nick.”

Nick pretends not to hear him.

```

From there, things get easier between all of them. Nick loosens up (if only the smallest bit, piece by piece), Ellis learns when he should tell stories, Coach figures out when he should scold and when he should comfort, and Rochelle...

Rochelle mends fences.

She’s good with people.

When Coach gruffly heaves Nick up and tells him he looks like something out of a driver's ed "Don't drive drunk or else" video, Rochelle pulls Nick away and patches him up before he can start to gripe about his suit. When Ellis looks beat and his eyes start to wander (looking for someone, looking for a hat like his and scars from third degree burns), Rochelle reminds him of where they are and helps him keep his spirits up. 

When Nick’s tongue gets a little too sharp, yet again, Rochelle talks him down.

This time, it was a clash of bad timing and stress.

They’re about to run out onto the concert stand and start up the music that’s going to save them, when Ellis launches into a story about the time he and Keith made fireworks. Rochelle knows he does it because he’s nervous and looking for the comfort of his past life, but Nick is strung out on pain pills (no first aid kits for miles) and he’s had enough.

“Ellis!” he barks and all three of his team members jump in surprise. Outside the safe house door, an infected moans in response to the sudden loud noise. “Is now really the time?!” The words aren’t so bad but the way he says it and the look on his face makes Ellis clamp his mouth shut. He doesn’t look wounded, like Rochelle expects (he’s so open, so warm, that cold words should hurt him) but instead looks...she isn’t sure what he’s feeling. 

Maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe Ellis is just tired of being chastised every time he speaks a word that isn't about zombies or weapons. Whatever the case, Ellis keeps quiet until the music blares and he seems to put Nick’s anger behind him. “This is like, the third time the Midnight Riders have saved my life!” he whoops as the helicopter pulls down to hover in the stands.

Rochelle decides to not comment on that and instead nudges Nick when Coach and Ellis are asleep.

“Are you okay?” She whispers.

Nick snorts, but the way he rubs his face indicates that he really isn’t.

“Why do you ask?”

“I know you have some problem with Ellis, but you normally don’t snap at him like you did earlier. I was wondering what was wrong.”

Nick doesn’t say anything for a long time. Rochelle waits. She’s patient.

“He’s-” Nick starts a sentence, but only lets one word escape his mouth before he closes it again. He sighs through his nose. “I don’t know.” 

“Don’t know what?”

The smile on Nick’s face is caught between tired and self-conscious.

“These days? I don’t know much of anything.”

They sit in silence and watch their companions sleep. 

Until the pilot roars and tries to rip their throats out. Then Nick shoots him and they go down. When they land, somehow alive and okay, Ellis blows up at Nick for shooting the pilot. Rochelle doesn’t intervene, just watches as they argue for all of two minutes and deflate. They all gear up and move along. That’s all they can do, all they ever do.

They move along.

```

Ellis watches Nick slowly open up with a sense of pride. He notices that Nick smiles more than he used to, and when they all sit together in a safe house overnight and play go fish with a deck Coach found all the way back in Savannah, Nick doesn’t cheat.

It’s something, and it’s a lot more than the man Nick used to be.

Ellis isn’t sure when he stops disliking Nick and starts to think of him as part of his family.

He doesn’t think it really matters.

And Ellis knows that all of them are changing (he’s changing, certainly, changing physically and he’s growing up at the same time) but he feels more invested in how Nick changes because Nick has come such a long way and because Nick used to be his polar opposite. Now they have more in common than Ellis ever thought they could. Sometimes Nick will say something, a smart ass quip betting ten bucks that the Jockey will take Coach to the right, and Ellis will laugh under his breath before shooting the Jockey off. Sometimes Ellis will make a comment (“I ain’t never seen this many witches before. I think _I’m_ gonna to start cryin’ in a minute.”) and Nick will chuckle and agree, squeezing his shoulder before reloading his gun.

A time comes when the arguments, the harsh words, the come backs, all just stop. Ellis barely notices until he says something, starts a story, and Nick just sighs and asks if it’s really the time for that kind of thing. It the same words as last week (was it just last week, it seems like it was months ago) but instead of them both walking away angry and tired and done with everything, they just keep walking after Ellis says “Okay, but there was a goat.” There’s no tension anymore. The thought makes Ellis smile, just a little, and, when Coach asks what he’s smiling about, he just shrugs and looks through his scope to fire at the witch blocking their path.

```

None of them sleep too well. No matter how safe they appear to be, no matter who’s on watch, none of them have slept deeply since the stock car, back when they thought a moving mode of transportation could keep them safe.

Nick, in particular, has nightmares. He doesn’t say what they’re about, but he wakes up thrashing about with his clothes stuck to his body by sweat and a swallowed scream ripping up his throat. No one wakes him up anymore, because that's admitting that Nick has a problem. The first time Nick had a nightmare, Coach woke him from it. This gesture of good will and concern was recieved poorly. That's all that should be said about it.

But one night, it gets so bad that Ellis cracks.

Nick hasn't woken yet but Ellis just did because of the violence of Nick's movements. They're about ten feet from each other on the floor, wrapped up in sleeping bags found one floor down. At least, Ellis still is wrapped up and Nick used to be. Nick has somehow wormed half way out of the sleeping bag and is making good headway in kicking his way out of the other half. Ellis is surprised Coach isn't awake yet, but he's much farther away from Nick than Ellis is. Rochelle is keeping watch downstairs, so Ellis is left alone to listen, stomach sick with pity, as Nick fights with himself and makes little angry and scared sounds. This can only go on so long before Ellis slides out of the sleeping bag and creeps over to where Nick has curled into a shamble of a fetal position.

Carefully, Ellis lays a hand on Nick's trembling shoulder.

"Nick?" his voice comes out in a whisper, and it has no effect. Ellis swallows, and shakes Nick.

"Nick." He's louder this time and it's just enough to startle Nick out of his dreams.

His eyes snap open and he's sitting up in seconds. He almost collides with Ellis but Ellis quickly sits back. Instead of smacking faces, they end up inches apart, staring into each other's eyes. Nick's pupils are wide, fearful, and what Ellis can see of his face at such close quarters is drawn and pale. Ellis doesn't know what he looks like but he doesn't think he wants to know.

It's only a few minutes of staring as Nick tries to place where he is and what he's doing in Ellis' personal space.

It's more than enough.

The act of looking into someone's eyes at close range is terrifyingly intimate, especially when you're not used to intimacy anymore due to struggling to just keep your own humanity.

The few minutes they have, swallowing in each other's eyes (each other's souls, if the eyes really are the window to them) is more than they need.

Ellis thinks that maybe, if he lived in a cheesy romantic horror movie, now is the moment when they would kiss.

But they don't, because there's nothing romantic about their lives and there's honestly nothing romantic about this, either. This is just a chance happenstance where everything is too close and they see too much.

Ellis feels like suddenly he knows more about Nick than he should and more than Nick wants him to know.

Nick closes his eyes, finally pulls himself together, and the tidal wave of relief swallows Ellis whole. He sits farther back and rubs his eyes, taking note of his shaking hands. His hands always shake these days, unless he's pulling a trigger, throwing a bomb, or saving a life.

"Thanks." is what Nick says when he finally says something. Ellis doesn't look into his eyes when he looks at Nick but instead looks right below them.

"Of course." Ellis always says that in response to graditude because what else would he have done besides what he did? He's always so sure of his actions, would always do it again (but maybe that's changed, because he wouldn't put himself into the zombie apocolypse again).

 Nick lifts a hand, but sighs and drops it.

"Go back to sleep, sport."

Ellis goes back to sleep. He isn't sure if Nick does.

```

Nick stops sleeping.

Ellis doesn't stop him.

But he's worried nonetheless.

 

```

They're on Virgil's boat after the terrifying sugar mill.

Nick fumbled more than he had any right to (he's an old hand at this witch thing, this zombie thing, they all are). He nearly shot Rochelle in the knee, startled way too many witches, and failed to get even one hit on a tank.

It's a big fucking target, Coach thinks when it's finally down. How do you miss a target that big?

But he remembers when he sees Nick's eyes start to flutter shut _in the midst of an attack_ that you miss a target that big when you haven't slept at all in three days.

They finally get back to the boat and load it up with gas, screaming at Virgil to hit it. He cheerfully oblidges.

It's then that Coach pulls Nick aside and informs him that he will be sleeping tonight.

Nick says nothing in response and that's scarier than anything else, really.

Ellis and Rochelle look like they're ready to explode with anxiety when Coach and Nick return to the group, like they expect Nick to faint at any second. Nick just shakes his head at them and leans against the railing, staring at a sky so clear it has to be mocking them. Coach leans next to him and gives the younger half of their team a reassuring smile. He knows Nick’s going to be okay. He knows this because he knows, somehow, that they’re all going to be okay. It’s a belief, not a fact, but it’s gotten them this far and he’ll be damned before he lets it go.

That night, Nick crawls into one of the lower bunks and passes out almost right away. Coach takes this as a good sign and rolls into the bunk above. He falls asleep quickly, but wakes who knows how much later to the sound of tossing and turning below him. He rolls over and sees Rochelle’s worried eyes looking right him from the other high bunk. They don’t need to say a word (haven’t had to speak to communicate for a while now) to agree that something has to be done.

Before anything can be done, Ellis sits up and throws his blankets off. He looks up at Coach and Coach understands what he’s going to do before he even moves. He’s looking for permission, Coach guesses, because Coach is always the one with the plan and every plan Ellis has submitted to the group has been approved by Coach before being put into action. Coach smiles slightly and Ellis smiles back. Quietly as he can, Ellis scoots over to Nick’s bunk and disappears from Coach’s sight. There’s a rustling before all noise stops. Coach meets Rochelle’s eyes again and Rochelle raises her eyebrows and rolls her eyes before she smiles and rolls onto her stomach, her head turned away from Coach in crossed arms. 

Perhaps the plan to physically hold Nick in place until he calmed down and fell asleep wasn’t the most delicate, but it got the job done.

Besides, they're all a little starved for human affection these days. It would be good for both Nick and Ellis to just...be near someone.

The thought of Nick being able to sleep again lifts the fatherly load that has been pushing Coach down, and this time when he falls asleep he doesn’t wake again until morning.

```

It’s the beginning of the end when they all climb up that last ladder and look out the safe house door. There are no infected in sight, but that could mean anything.

“Does anyone want to think of a Plan B in case the military tries to kill us?” Nick asks as he reloads his gun and stashes extra ammo in his pockets.

“Nope.” Ellis replies, checking the straps of his first aid kit.

Nick laughs for the first time since they left the boat and they all feel a little bit better.

“All right, all right. Let’s get going then.”

Rochelle heaves open the exit door and they sneak out, guns up and eyes wide open. Ellis is the first to hear the crackle of the radio and he dives for it, talking to the soldier on the other end. Nick hears the words “Are you equipped for carriers?” and feels sick to his stomach, because he’s seen the writing on the walls of the safe houses and he knows that being a carrier gets you killed. Coach looks at him and Nick knows that he knows, too, and that’s even worse. If it was just Nick he could keep his mouth shut, pretend they’re going to be okay. But Coach knows and Coach is the one who has believed totally and fully that they’ll be saved. Rochelle doesn’t seem to think anything of it and Ellis- Ellis just said “God bless you too, sir” to the man who may have signed their death warrant.

Ellis thinks the best of everyone. Nicks used to think the worst of everyone. It’s how he survived. Right now, he’s so painfully envious of Ellis, of his “hope springs eternal” attitude. He hopes that, if they die today (when they die today), Ellis will die from an infected, not from a bullet from the gun that saved them. He knows that, at the start, he would have liked the look on Ellis’ face when he realized that people do kill when they’re scared.

Now?

Now the thought makes him sick, and it’s worse because he can see the image perfectly in his mind. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply until he hears Ellis hitting the button to lower the bridge and relaying what the soldier told him. Nick opens his eyes again and walks over to watch as the gates of their own personal Hell open wide.

```

They’re exiting off the bridge and running for the copter and Ellis thinks they’ll be okay. He’s limping and he’s got a death grip on Coach’s shoulder, but Coach isn’t doing so great either so Ellis doesn’t feel like he’s being a dead weight.

A glance backwards tells him that Rochelle and Nick are gripping hands and pulling each other forward. They’re both running, Nick turning back every so often to let loose an aimless shot, hoping it hits something. Rochelle's lost her gun but she’s got a crowbar and Ellis knows she could kill a charger by herself with one of those.

They catch up with Ellis and Coach in seconds and split up to offer aid, Rochelle tucking herself under Ellis’ arm to lift him up and Nick doing the same on Coach’s side. Somehow, the four of them manage to haul ass to the copter and tumble inside the hatch. Ellis turns around once he’s inside and shoots one last infected in the face. He laughs, a mixture of relief and adrenaline high, as its head explodes and the hatch door closes. He collapses next to Nick, who’s laughing with him. It’s one of those moments where you start laughing and you simply can’t stop and before they know it there are tears running down their faces and they’re silently shaking.

Rochelle and Coach are laughing too, but they appear to be laughing at them, just a little, so when Ellis recovers he feigns annoyance at being the subject of mockery yet again. Nick nudges shoulders with him and although Ellis can barely see in the dark, he can tell that Nick is rolling his eyes. Ellis grins at him and wiggles an arm behind Nick’s back, clamping his hand on Nick’s waist. They lean against other and Nick’s arm ends up around Ellis’ waist as well. They’re holding on for dear life, even though they appear to be saved (for now, it’s always safe for now), but when Ellis falls asleep he feels safe.

Nick doesn’t move an inch during the night.

When Ellis wakes up, Nick’s head is shoved beneath Ellis’ ear and he’s snoring. Ellis smiles.

He knew they’d be okay, he thinks as he rests his head on Nick’s and tangles his fingers in Nick’s jacket, and they’re going to keep being okay.

Because they all have each other.


End file.
